


Night

by Purseplayer



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Werewolf, First Time, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-05
Updated: 2014-04-05
Packaged: 2018-01-18 05:36:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1417018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Purseplayer/pseuds/Purseplayer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kurt had only given his boyfriend a hickey - he had no idea it would have consequences like this!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Night

Kurt was too-hot and cold with sweat, his body quaking as he thrust up into the slick heat above him, groaning, his head thrown back.  His lover whined and rolled his hips, and Kurt’s grip tightened, one thumb brushing the jut of his hipbone while the other pressed into the pretty bruise he’d left on Blaine’s throat, slightly scabbed because he’d caught his tooth and accidentally drawn the tiniest amount of blood.

“Close,” Blaine said, all breath, grinding down harder.  “Close, Kurt, could you just…”

Kurt reluctantly abandoned the mark in favor of fisting Blaine’s thick, pulsing cock, rubbing up along the vein and twisting over the head.

“Come on, baby.  Not gonna last too long.  You just… _fuck_.”  Kurt watched in blatant amazement as Blaine came apart before his eyes, spurting messily onto his chest and Kurt’s stomach and Kurt’s fist, transfixed by the way his thick lashes fluttered and his face furrowed, his mouth falling open, the shape of Kurt’s name on his lips.  “Fuck, yes,” he muttered.  “So hot like this,” he said more loudly, working Blaine through it and then reverently moving his hand along Blaine’s chest, a work of art: flushed bronze skin, sparse dark hair, dripping come and shiny with sweat.

Blaine contracted around him strongly—still dazed with the aftershocks—and Kurt was suddenly overcome with his own arousal.  “Just… you have to let me…”  He was slumped, a dead-weight but easy to move once he realized what Kurt wanted, and then Kurt was leaning over him, staring into adoring hazel eyes still warm with desire.

“Do it, Kurt.  Please.”  Blaine tightened his muscles, wincing as he did so, pulled Kurt closer and twined his legs around Kurt’s waist.  “I wanna feel it.”

Kurt found he couldn’t close his eyes, couldn’t bear to look away from Blaine’s face.  “Yes,” he breathed, and he was moving, falling into his boyfriend’s embrace and losing himself in the hot, heady pleasure of him—his scent, his hands, his skin, the way this boy _loved_ him.

He could feel it building inside of him, like the crashing waves of the ocean, like the way the music crested when they danced.  Everything came rushing forward and Kurt cried out, trembling and helpless, finding Blaine’s lips to ground himself, to swallow his own sound.

Slowly, everything settled again, and he was still tangled with Blaine, Blaine’s lips on his brow and his hand stroking lightly over the small of Kurt’s back.  Kurt blinked, said sluggishly, “was that… was that alright?  You liked it?  I didn’t hurt you?”

Blaine smiled at him, the sun amid the dark of night that was leaking through Kurt’s open window, only tamed by the glowing sheen of the full moon.  Kurt couldn’t have asked for a more perfect night for this, for finally giving in and giving over and becoming fully _them_.  He ran his fingers through Blaine’s curls as he answered.

“Kurt, it was amazing.  Perfect.”

Kurt beamed back at him, his lingering anxiety abating and giving way to pure, unadulterated joy.  “I’m glad,” he said, tracing the lines of Blaine’s face, softly kissing his lips.  “I love you, you know.”  The words were hard to force out, however true they were; it was still an effort, allowing himself to be vulnerable like this.  But Blaine was worth it; the look on his face was worth it.

“Of course I know.  Of course.”  He pulled Kurt down, accepting his weight in favor of a full-body embrace, nuzzling their faces together.  “Love you,” he whispered.  Kurt’s heart soared; he pictured it disappearing into the endless expanse of sky.

*******

Kurt woke too-hot, still and naked and sticky after their hasty clean-up.  He blinked, taking a moment to adjust to the dimness of a room lit only by the moon.  Something was lying over his left side, the bulk of it pressing him into the mattress, and he smiled sleepily, remembering: _Blaine_.

As awareness dawned, however, he quickly tensed—something wasn’t right.  That wasn’t Blaine’s soft skin against his body, it was… it was _fur_. 

He bit back a scream as his hand patted at the mass beside him, confirming his suspicions.  He tried to jump up, to _get out_ , but of course his efforts disturbed the… the _thing_.

It shifted and whined, pawing at Kurt’s stomach and lifting its heavy head from Kurt’s shoulder.  Golden-brown-green eyes glowed in the moonlight, and this time Kurt did scream, and tense, and try to shift as far away as possible all at once, managing to work his body out from under the animal and slamming his shoulder hard into the wall for his efforts.

The doorknob jiggled—Kurt couldn’t see it, but he could hear it—and Kurt scrabbled for the sheets, wanting to cover himself, eyes flickering to the… to the… he thought it was a dog, but a _large_ one, and it was barking, and Kurt was _scared_ , wanting to hit at it but also wanting to cry.

“Kurt… Kurt what is going on in there?  Is that a dog?”  The doorknob jiggled more ferociously and then the door was slamming open, his dad barging in with a baseball bat in hand, hitting the light, his eyes widening in alarm at the sight before him. 

Kurt blinked rapidly, eyes burning and unable to see, and when his vision cleared his father was wearing a very different expression, now relaxed with the bat swaying gently at his side.  He looked… resigned?

“Kurt,” he said slowly, and Kurt had a sudden urge to scream at him to _do something_.  The dog was still barking, more softly now, sounds that faded into in almost howling whine, and Kurt didn’t know where to look.  “Kurt, did you have Blaine stay over last night?”

“What’s… what’s that got to do with anything?”  Where was Blaine, anyway?  Had he left?  “I… I… yes!  Can we argue about that later!?”

“Did you two have sex?” Burt asked, looking as uncomfortable as Kurt felt.

Kurt glanced down at his bare chest and flushed.  “That’s a very personal question.”

“I know.  But I need you to answer it, kid.”

“Yes,” Kurt admitted, clipped, looking away from his dad and somehow settling on the dog again.  It was finally quiet, its head resting on the pillow, staring at Kurt with one paw over its face.  Strange.

Slowly, Kurt shifted in the bed, sitting up and folding his legs with the sheet still carefully draped over his lap, grabbing a pillow for extra cover.  He fought a strange impulse to reach over and pet the dog’s head, to run his fingers through the thick beige fur at its neck.

“Did you… did you _bite_ him?  Any hickeys?”

“Dad!”

“Just answer the question, Kurt.”  Burt looked extremely awkward now, like these were the last things he wanted to be saying, and for perhaps the first time ever he deliberately avoided looking his son in the eye.  It didn’t much help Kurt’s indignation. 

“Why don’t you tell me why there’s a _dog_ in my bed!  Or haven’t you noticed!?”

“That’s not a dog; he’s a wolf,” Burt said, giving the animal a quick once-over.

Kurt crossed his arms over his chest.  “Like that’s an improvement.  And how do you know that it’s a he?”

Burt sighed and scratched at the bald-spot on his head.  “Because that’s Blaine,” he admitted.

“That’s… he’s… what?  Dad, are you feeling okay?  Because you’re a little young for dementia, but—“

“Did you bite him, Kurt?” Burt repeated softly.

“I… yes, okay!  That may have happened.  And then we had sex, and then we fell asleep together, and then I woke up to this!  Any other details you’d like to know!?”

“I’m good, thanks.  But—that’s Blaine, Kurt.  If you don’t believe me, give it till morning.  He’ll be back to his usual self.”

Kurt rubbed at his temples, shaking his head as if doing so would right the world around him.  “I feel like I’ve taken crazy pills.  Dad, I don’t—“

“As much as you’re freaking out right now, imagine what he’s feeling.”  Kurt looked to the dog—no, wolf—forcing himself to lock eyes with it and… he still couldn’t believe it, not yet, but there was something there.  His heart panged with the thought that this could be Blaine, _his_ Blaine, trapped in an animal’s body.  Tentatively, he reached out to scratch behind the wolf’s ears.  The animal whimpered, nuzzling up into the touch, his eyes pleading with Kurt for… something.

He turned back to his dad.  “I think you owe me an explanation,” he said pointedly.

Burt sighed again, this time with exhaustion.  “In the morning?  I’ll—“

“Now, Dad.”  He had never before had the occasion to use his famous bitch-glare on his father, but there was a first time for everything.

“I’ll give you the short of it, then.  Kurt: you’re a werewolf.  So was your mother.  I didn’t know for sure about you until… until now.  Born wolves don’t start to turn until they’re eighteen, so I thought I’d just wait it out and see.  I’m sorry; I know that’s not a good enough excuse right now.”

Kurt took a moment to process that.  “But Blaine—he’s only sixteen.  How come he…”

Burt looked away, rubbing at the back of his neck in a gesture that oddly reminded Kurt of Mr. Shue.  “Born wolves turn when they’re eighteen, but they’re still wolves.  Bitten wolves… well, they’ll start to turn right away.”  He paused, then, “it’s a full moon tonight.”

“You’re saying I turned him,” Kurt said, anger rising within him and tears springing to his eyes.  He tightened his fist in Blaine’s fur, and the wolf nosed at his wrist.

“That’s what it looks like, yes.”

Kurt looked down at Blaine, swallowing thickly as he yet again met the wolf’s eyes.  “I’m… I’m really angry with you, right now,” he said to Burt.

“I understand.  I wish there—do you have any more questions?”

“He’s not… he’s not _feral_ , is he?” Kurt asked, even though the answer seemed blatant before him.

“No,” Burt said.  “And he’ll only— _you’ll_ only turn at the full moon.”

“How convenient,” Kurt snarled.  Then, “Could you leave us alone, please?”

Burt nodded, but Kurt only saw it out of the corner of his eye.  He couldn’t, _wouldn’t_ , look at him right now for fear of saying things he shouldn’t, and he had the oddest feeling that if he were to unleash his anger, Blaine would respond, somehow—would grow vicious too.

Silently, Burt left the room, offing the light, and Kurt was once again alone with a wolf.  With _Blaine_.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, snuggling close to Blaine’s soft, warm body.  Blaine whined in response, pressing his wet nose against Kurt’s neck, then his paw to Kurt’s cheek.  He could feel a different sort of wetness on his face, too, and didn’t even try to stop it.  Kurt wasn’t sad; he was overwhelmed, and guilty.

He closed his eyes to it, stroked Blaine’s fur, and allowed sleep to overcome him once more. 

*******

In the morning the wolf was gone, replaced again by the smooth, compact body of the boy Kurt loved as sunlight replaced the moonlight, almost too-bright in its intensity.  Blaine was already awake when Kurt managed to open his eyes, watching him, his hand a comforting weight on the dip of Kurt’s waist.

“Good morning,” he said, and Kurt felt his eyes welling up all over again.

“Blaine,” he breathed, rushing forward into the other boy’s arms.

Blaine met his embrace with a fierce one of his own.  “Big night, huh,” he said lightly, laughing shakily into Kurt’s ear.

“I’m sorry,” Kurt told him.  “I’m sorry, Blaine; I didn’t know.”

“You couldn’t have known,” Blaine said, smoothing a hand over Kurt’s hair.  “Kurt, I heard every word your dad said.  It’s not your fault.”

He pulled back, grinning stupidly and fingering the purple splotch that still graced his neck.  “It’s not so bad,” he said.  “I’d say it was worth it.”

“Blaine, you were a _wolf_.  An animal!  This is a big deal!”

Blaine shrugged.  “In a year you will be too.  I don’t mind so much, especially not then.  I—it was exciting.  It was so different from anything I’ve ever experienced.  You looked different, and the way you smelled, Kurt…” he closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, as if tracing the memory.  “I had these urges to just—it’s hard to explain—I wanted to just be _on_ you, and sniff you, and kind of smother you, and Kurt, those scratches…” he shivered in pleasure, and Kurt felt a spike of arousal shoot through him at the sight. 

He glanced down.  Blaine was fully hard, his cock smearing a short trail of pre-come over his stomach.

“I’m glad you liked it,” he managed, not sure what else to say.

Blaine’s eyes opened—it could be Kurt’s imagination, but he thought they looked a little more golden than they had been before.  Kurt had to fight the urge to turn away from the intensity of Blaine’s gaze, desire pooling hot in his stomach.

“That wasn’t the only thing I liked,” Blaine said.

Kurt felt his face heat.  “You must have so many questions,” he pressed.

Suddenly Blaine’s hand was on him, trailing feather-light down the length of his hardening cock, palming his balls, dipping lower, causing Kurt to arch his back with a tiny cry.

“They can wait,” Blaine assured him.

His lips sealed the promise.


End file.
